The Way He Missed Her
by kirstencohen
Summary: Kirsten was gone and he hadn't cried yet. ONE SHOT


**Hope you all like. Someone once asked "Is it your intent to make us all miserable?" and i suppose my answer is yes. lol :p**

He hadn't cried yet. It had been seven days and he still hadn't shed a tear. He was the strong one. He was the one his son's clung to when they broke down at the hospital. "I'm sorry Mr Cohen, she's gone. She lost a lot of blood and there was nothing we could do." His face remained expressionless as his dark haired son fell to his knees. Ryan stood rigid next to him, afraid to move. That changed when the doctor started walking away, "No she can't be. Not Kirsten. She can't be. I wanna see her." The doctor turned to the Father who still remained deadpanned. "Mr Cohen it may be a little distressing for your boys to see your wife in the condition she's in." Sandy turned slowly to the doctor and then to his son, "Go." He said simply. Seth hadn't moved from the floor. He sobbed loudly into his hands. He was curled in a ball on the floor. Ryan made his way into the operation room. Sandy kneeled down and wrapped his arms around his son, "It's okay. Shhh come on you're okay." Seth clung to him desperately and sobbed into his jacket, "I just want my mom."

"Me too son."

Four days later they all gathered in a mass of black. His eyes remained dry throughout the service. He didn't move. He didn't even listen. What did this preacher know about his wife? He rambled on about how she was a great lady but how would he know? He never got to meet her. When they all assembled around the open grave Ryan and Seth kneeled at the mouth. Sandy placed his hands on both of their shoulders. As the coffin descended slowly Caleb let out a small sob and Julie tightened her grip on his hand. She quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape from her perfectly mascara'ed eyes. Summer was on Seth's right and Marissa on Ryan's left. Sandy felt both his son's shoulders shake and he too got onto his knees and pulled them both towards him. They both hung onto him urgently. He saw the tears fall from their eyes and he wished he could cry.

Later Sandy was still at her grave. Still dressed in black. Still dry-eyed. He heard someone walk up behind him. He turned to find Jimmy holding a bunch of lilies in his left hand. They both stared at each other before embracing each other warmly, "I really loved her, Sandy."

"I know. Me too."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Now after a week of no emotion, it all came flooding out. He drove his car to the private beach that he and Kirsten sometimes went to on a particularly hot day. He carried a large bottle of vodka and three boxes of painkillers. When he eventually parked the bottle was half empty. He opened the first bottle of pills and shoved four into his mouth. He thought of all the things he missed about her.

They way she always smelled good even if it was just her shampoo.

He swallowed four more.

The way her head could always find the right spot on his shoulder.

He gulped down another mouthful.

The ease at which she could fit into his arms.

He shovelled in the rest of that bottle.

The way she fished for compliments even though they both knew she was the most beautiful thing on this earth.

WAS the most beautiful thing. Now she was gone.

The way her hand could always find his.

He threw the empty bottles out the window.

The way she fell into his arms when she cried.

He finished off the bottle of vodka and clambered out of the car.

The way her tears made him want to change the world so that it didn't hurt her anymore... Yet regardless if he loved her, hated her, wished she would die or knew that he would die without her ... it mattered not. Because once in his life, whatever she was to the world she became everything to him. When he looked her in the eyes, travelling to the depths of her soul and he said a million things without trace of a sound, he knew that his own life was inevitable consumed within the rhythmic beatings of her very heart. He loved her for a million reasons, No paper would do it justice. It is a thing not of the mind but of the heart. A Feeling. Only felt.

He lay peacefully on the sand and let the darkness creep in. His eyelids drooped and he remembered the very last thing he missed about her.

The way he missed her.

**Hope you liked it. This was inspired by an email i got so if some of the sentences seem familiar it's probably because you got it in your inbox before. Please review.**


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